Dead Flowers
by singitanyway13
Summary: He ain't feelin' anything. My love, my hurt or the sting of this rain.  Read "Walk the Line" to understand this story.
1. Chapter 1

**Dead Flowers**

* * *

><p>She estimated it had been about an hour from when she fell asleep to when Brock woke her up. He shook her shoulder violently until she jolted awake.<p>

"What?" She sat up straight in her seat, her cheek pink from laying on it too long.

"We're at the Quik Trip," Brock said, turning the engine off.

Reba put a hand to her head and squinted at the light. "Oh," She said and unbuckled her seatbelt as Brock got out to fill up the tank. She opened her door, got out, and was met by Cheyenne.

"Havin' fun yet?" Cheyenne asked, counting out several dollar bills in her hand.

Reba stretched her arms over her head. "Best time ever," She lied.

Cheyenne gave her a look. "Mom, we saw you and Dad fighting," She said. "Is everything okay?"

Reba began to walk towards the store, Cheyenne on her heels.

"So," Cheyenne argued. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Reba said. "Just a little argument. It's fine."

They walked inside to the store where Reba saw Van counting out Tootsie Rolls at the register, Elizabeth at his side. That's when Jake appeared with a bag of Doritos, a Twix candy bar, and a Mountain Dew and said, "Hey, Mom? Can I get this?"

"Huh?" Reba mumbled. "Yeah. Sure."

"Cool!" He ran to get in line behind Van as Reba and Cheynne walked towards the bathrooms.

"Mom, are you sure you're okay?" Cheyenne asked.

"Yes!" Reba said, a little annoyed. "Why do you keep asking?"

"Because you just gave Jake permission to eat candy and soda and it's not even nine in the morning."

"He just got out of the hospital. I want to make him feel special." She pushed open the door to the bathroom.

"Oh. Okay," Cheyenne said, still not convinced and went into a stall.

Reba went into the one right beside Cheyenne, praying she'd stop asking questions.

* * *

><p>Out by the gas pumps, Brock was filling up the gas tank when Van came strolling by.<p>

"Hey, Mr. H," Van said. "Tootsie Roll?" Van offered him a piece of candy from the plastic bag.

As Brock watched the numbers on the meter get higher he said, "No thanks. I'm fine." He stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

Van shrugged and took one himself. As he unwrapped it, he said, "Hey, Mr. H, is everything okay between you and Mrs. H?"

Brock swallowed and looked directly at Van. "Why do you ask? Has she talked to you?"

"No."

"Oh. Okay then." He turned back to pumping gas.

"Is everything okay, though?" Van wondered. "Me and Cheyenne saw you two fighting in the car and then she threw Rolaids at you."

Brock turned back around. "They weren't Rolaids, they were-" He paused.

"Yes?" Van pressured.

"Never mind. We just had a little fight."

"About what?"

Brock screwed the gas cap on the car and took a deep breath. "She kissed me okay? That's all you need to know."

With that, he walked off towards the store to pay for the gas leaving Van with his mouth open in shock, revealing a chewed Tootsie Roll.

* * *

><p>"She did what?" Cheyenne asked Van when they were back on the road.<p>

"Shhh!" Van warned, glancing in the back seat where Jake was playing his gameboy and Elizabeth was napping.

"Sorry. She did what?"

"Kissed him."

"Nuh-uh."

"That's what your dad said. And you know that box she threw?"

"Yeah."

"He wouldn't tell me what it was, so it must be good."

Cheyenne sat back in her seat. "We have to find out what was in that box."

"I know. Hey, did you get anything out of your mom?"

"No. She wouldn't tell me anything. But I heard her praying in the bathroom."

"Man, she sure prays alot."

"Psh, yeah."

"Did you hear what she said?"

"Something about how she wished Dad would stop asking questions."

"Questions about what?"

"Do you guys really think I can't hear you?"

Van and Cheyenne looked in the backseat and saw Jake with his Gameboy turned off and his arms folded. They looked at each other and grimaced.

* * *

><p>Reba tried to fall asleep again but couldn't. They were only an hour into the trip and there had already been a screaming match. She couldn't deal with eleven more hours with Brock. When they made another stop, she was going to ask to ride with Van.<p>

"Do you mind if I turn the radio on?" Brock asked ugrently as if it was a life or death situation.

Without lifting her head off the window Reba said, "I'd rather you didn't. I have a headache."

Brock sighed in frustration and Reba rolled her eyes. "If it's that big a deal," She said. "Turn the thing on."

"It's not a big deal," Brock said.

"Then why did you sigh?"

"It's called breathing."

"Okay. Can you quit talking now?"

"Sorry. Sheesh."

Reba, quite uncomfortable from leaning on the door, adjusted her seatbelt and sat up. She folded her arms and stared out the window.

After ten minutes of silence, Brock got bored and tried to talk to her.

"Do you know what this reminds me of?" He asked.

When she didn't respond, he continued.

"When we went to Colorado. You know, to stay in that cabin? Cheyenne was eight, Kyra was five and you had just found out you were pregnant with Jake. You were sick the whole way there."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smile just at the corners of her mouth.

"See?" He said. "You do remember. That was a fun trip, wasn't it?"

"Yes." Her smile suddenly disappeared. "I also remember how you left me and the girls in the cabin so you could go skiing with that guy, Dave. I was sick and needed you that day, Brock but all you wanted to do was go out and have your fun. You didn't even call to check on me that day. I cried myself to sleep that night."

He ran a hand over his eyes before starting to pat her knee. "I remember, and I'm sorry."

"Just don't touch me." She smacked his hand away. "And it wasn't that one night. That happened several other times as well as other things."

She leaned down to reach into her purse and pulled out a bottle of sleeping pills, guaranteed to knock her out. She un-screwed the cap and emptied one into her hand.

"What's that?" Brock asked, a little concerned.

She popped it in her mouth and washed it down with a bottle of warm water.

"Never mind what this is," She said. "You just focus on your driving and leave me alone."

She turned back to the window and fell asleep within five minutes.

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><p><em><strong>I hope you all liked this update! And it occurred to me when I ended Walk The Line that you guys are probably like, "What's up with these story titles?" Well, when the series is over, it'll make a whole lot more sense. Dead Flowers does have a meaning and you'll find out what it means sometime during the story. I think it's at the end, but I'm not sure. Anyway, all the titles will make sense except Walk The Line, and you'll understand that when it's all over. ((: Thanks for reading! Review? <strong>_


	2. Chapter 2

When Reba opened her eyes, the sun was going down. She yawned and glanced at the car's digital clock. It was seven twenty-nine in the evening. She had slept the whole way there just like she had hoped.

She sat up and stretched her arms and legs out as best as she could in the cramped car and rubbed her neck.

"Where are we?" She asked Brock, taking a drink from a warm bottle of water.

"We just got into Branson," Brock responded with a yawn. Reba tried not to notice how cute he was when he yawned. "Van's ahead of us," He continued. "since he knows where the hotel is. Should be there in about fifteen minutes."

Reba nodded and sat up in the seat, glancing out the window, trying not to think about how awkward this was.

"You sure slept a long time," Brock said, trying to break the silence.

"Yeah," She responded and put her hands in her lap. "Just tryin' to pass the time."

"I hear ya. We took only a ten minute break three hours ago at a Wendy's drive-thru. Which reminds me, there's some fries for you in that bag down on the floor-board."

Reba glanced down and saw the bag but left it where it was. "No thanks," She said. "I'm actually a little car sick."

"Oh. Well, you'll be able to lie down soon. I'm sure the hotel will have a gift shop. We'll get you something to help with it."

She nodded and looked out the window, watching the Branson Strip go by. She saw the Ripley's Believe It Or Not museum, the Wax Museum, the Boat Tours, The Grand-Country-Inn Hotel, the seven-story Go-Kart track and the kiddie amusement park. She assumed Celebration City and Silver Dollar City, the big theme parks, were further into the city.

Minutes passed and before she knew it, they were pulling into the parking lot of The Holiday Inn. Luckily, there were two parking places right next to each other. The two cars parked and everyone filed out, grateful to be on solid ground.

Reba stretched and yawned as soon as her feet touched the pavement, still trying to wake up from her nap.

"Hey, Mom," Cheyenne said, walking up. "Have a good nap?"

"I sure did," Reba said, putting on a fake smile.

"I would hope so. You slept for eleven hours straight, sitting up. Seriously, you didn't move. Not even when we stopped at a Burger King, went in, ate, and came back out an hour later."

Reba smiled, thinking she'd keep the thing about the sleeping pills to herself and said, "Well, I've been pretty stressed lately. Sleeping helps."

"Oh, yeah. I bet it does. You know what else helps stress?" She asked, trying to trick her mom into spilling information. "Kissin' on your man."

Cheyenne hooked her arm around Van as he walked up dragging a suitcase behind him.

"What honey?" Van asked, smiling.

"Oh, nothing," Cheyenne said. "I was just telling Mom what a great stress reliever love can be."

"Oh!" Van said, catching on. "She's right. For the past five years, I have been stress free."

Cheyenne frowned and looked at him. "We've been together for eight years and married for six, Van."

Van froze and tried to get out of the trap. "Oh, no. No, see. What I meant was well, we-we need to go." He began to shuffle away, Cheyenne right behind him.

That was when Reba stepped away. She walked over to help Brock unload the back of his Lexus.

"Oh, I got it," He told her as she grabbed her suitcase from the trunk.

"No, no," She assured him. "I got it."

"Reba, you don't feel well. Let me get it." He tugged on it.

"I'm fine. Give me the suitcase." She tugged back.

"You're sick. Give it to me."

"Brock, let go!"

"Just let me carry it for you."

"Quit tryin' to butter me up! Now, give me the dern suitcase!" She jerked it away as Brock held up his hands.

"Fine," He said. "Carry it yourself."

"I will."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Brock slammed the hood of the trunk closed and waited for Van and Cheyenne to get their stuff together. When they did, all six of them walked into the hotel.

Inside, it was huge. Twelve stories tall with two glass elevators. There was a restaurant and even a bar. The place had chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and luggage carts lining the wall. The Hart-Montgomery family looked rather out of place.

Van stepped over to get the rooms all lined out while the rest of the family waited nearby, marveling at all the things in the grand hotel.

Just as Reba was thinking about how she'd just love to be in the bar, Van finished up at the check-in desk and walked over, room keys in hand.

"Okay, everybody," He said, holding up the room keys. "Rooms 712 and 713 are ours. Mr. H, you and Jake, along with Mrs. H are in room 713 and me and Cheyenne and Elizabeth are in 712." He handed out the room keys. "Don't lose them," He warned.

"Will do," Brock said, sticking the key in his back pocket. Reba did the same.

"Okay, Jake," She said, turning to her son who was barely keeping his eyes open. "Ready to head up?"

He nodded and blinked slowly.

"Okay, then. Let's go."

"Right behind you," Brock said, to which Reba rolled her eyes.

"We'll be up in a minute," Cheyenne said. "We have to go to the gift shop to find Elizabeth a teddy bear to sleep with. She left hers at home."

"Alright," Reba said. "Good night."

"Night, Mom. Love you."

"Love you, too."

With that, the three made their way up to room 713. Reba dreaded having to spend a whole week with Brock. She prayed the whole time that nothing would happen between them although she didn't know why she couldn't finish the prayer with an 'amen'.

* * *

><p>By the time they got up to their room, Jake was on the verge of being carried because he was so tired.<p>

"Lead him to the bed," Reba instructed Brock when they got inside, and pointed to the queen size bed him and Jake would share.

Brock did as Reba asked as Reba closed the drapes on the windows. She turned around to see Jake conked out on top of the red and gold bed-spread. That was basically the color scheme. Red and gold everything. It wasn't very pretty but it was a place to sleep and right now, that's all Reba cared about doing.

She set her suitcase on the bed and grabbed her toothbrush and pajamas and made her way to the bathroom.

"I'll be out directly," She said to no one in particular and shut the bathroom door quietly.

In the bathroom, there were two sinks, a toilet, a coffee maker, and even a toaster. In addition to that, there was even a jacuzzi bathtub.

_I can't wait to get in that_, She thought as she changed into her pajamas.

She brushed her teeth and exited in a timely fashion. Brock went in after her.

As he did his business, Reba crossed the room to Jake's bed-side and got the sheets out from under him. She took his shoes off and rolled him under the covers. She kissed his forehead and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

As she whispered a good-night, she was painfully reminded of when he was in the hospital. Holding back tears, she switched the over-head light off and crawled into her own bed.

After thanking God that Jake was still doing fine, she closed her eyes and listened to Brock bustle around in the bathroom, but for some reason she couldn't understand, she anticipated him coming to bed.

* * *

><p>Downstairs, a conniving Van and Cheyenne weren't in the gift shop getting Elizabeth a teddy bear, they were out in the parking lot, breaking into Brock's car.<p>

"Hurry up, Van," Cheyenne urged. She carried a sleeping Elizabeth in her arms.

Van fumbled with the wire coat hanger. "I'm trying," He said.

"Just hurry. I wanna know what was in that box."

"I'm hurrying as fast as I can. Aha!"

"Did you unlock it?"

"No, I just got that joke Barbra Jean told me the other day."

"Van!"

"Oh, wait...wait. I think I got it...Got it!"

The familiar sound of a car door unlocking was like music to their ears. Van opened the door and crawled in as Cheyenne stood outside with Elizabeth.

"Now," Van said, switching on his pen-light. "What are we lookin' for? Small box. Dark in color."

"Square," Cheyenne offered.

Van stopped and looked back at his wife. "Of course it's square, it's a box."

"Just tryin' to help."

"Yeah... Man, I'm not finding anything-oh, here we go!"

"What? Did you find it?"

"No. Lemonheads." He held up the yellow box. "Want one?"

"Van!"

"What? I haven't eaten in four hours."

"Just keep looking."

"Fine. Hey, what if he's got it on him?"

"I doubt it."

"Oh, wait a minute. What do we have here?" He pulled his arm out from underneath the driver's seat and held up a blue velvet box. "This looks like it."

"Van, wait," Cheyenne said. "That's a ring box."

He opened it and revealed the glittering diamond engagement ring.

"Oh my gosh! Van, they're engaged!"

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><p><strong><em>If I'm remembering correctly, this chapter wasn't posted on my old account. I hope you all enjoyed it. Review? Thanks for reviewing so far! I sure do appreciate it. (:<em>**


	3. Chapter 3

Reba waited for Brock to get out of the bathroom, although she didn't know why she felt like she couldn't sleep without him in the same room. Maybe it was because it was still a little bit light out. _No_, she thought. _That's not it. I slept just fine in broad daylight earlier._

_It doesn't matter_, She told herself and closed her eyes. That's when Brock came out of the bathroom.

She opened her eyes again and listened.

He carried his clothes to his suitcase and set them on top and then made his way over to Reba's bed.

"Reba," He whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," Reba whispered back.

She saw him come closer in the dim light. "Hey, look," He said, leaning down. "I'm sorry about earlier. About that thing with the suitcase. It was stupid."

"It's okay," Reba assured him.

"No, it's not okay." He sighed. "It was immature."

Reba, kicking herself for what she was about to do, grabbed his shirt and pulled his lips to hers.

"I'm sorry," She mumbled against his lips, sitting up, still kissing him.

He kissed her back, obviously, but it was painful for him because he knew she was just playing with his heart.

Her breaths got quicker and she kissed him harder, not knowing why she couldn't stop. Her heart was on fire in a way it hadn't ever been before. Not with Terry Holliway, not with Brian Collins, or even Jack Morgan. The desire was so strong she was holding on for dear life. She knew it could never work yet she couldn't stop herself. She didn't love him. She didn't. Yet, it was like a strange voice telling her to keep kissing him until she loved him.

She frowned and tried to pull away but Brock had his hand on the back of her neck and she couldn't bring herself to unwind her arms from around his neck.

Stop! Her brain screamed; the part that was still functioning anyway.

Stay! Her heart screamed; her whole heart. With every part of her heart that was beating, it said stay.

But, she was a logical woman, so she listened to her brain. She stopped.

Brock was dumbfounded. "What's wrong?" He whispered, his breathing was erratic.

"No," She said. "I don't know why..." Her voice trailed off as she stood. She slipped her shoes on and shook her head. "I can't do this. No, I can't. I'm sorry." She grabbed the room key. "I just don't understand why..." She opened the door and walked out, headed to any place she could get away.

But knowing she would do something dangerous if she walked down the long, dark hall, she slipped into a maid's supply closet where she slid to the floor and cried until she couldn't cry anymore.

* * *

><p>Van quietly locked the chain on the door as Cheyenne laid a sleeping Elizabeth in the empty bed beside the window.<p>

"You know," Van pointed out as he strolled over to close the drapes. "Your dad's not very subtle."

"What?" Cheyenne asked, pulling the covers over her daughter.

"If he was going to ask your mom to marry him, why didn't he wait and do it tomorrow or something? When we're all together? Why did he have to do it in secret?"

"Okay, Van. Do you even know what subtle means?"

"Yes. Out in the open. Public."

"No. It means on the down low. Quiet. Not public." She sat down on the bed, digging through Elizabeth's toy bag. "And you do you know Mom's seen the ring?"

"Because we saw him show it to her on the way over. Duh."

"Oh, yeah." She pulled out Elizabeth's teddy bear and set it next to the little girl. "It just doesn't make sense. I mean, they're divorced."

"So?"

"So...that would be weird."

"Are you saying you wouldn't want them to get back together?"

"I don't know! It would be strange seeing them kiss and hug and be all lovey dovey. It would change everything. I mean, why ruin it? They have a good divorce."

"You know, divorced couples get back together all the time. They had a thing about it on Dateline."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He sat down beside her. "And if they are getting back together, are you willing to support them?"

Cheyenne gave a small smile and nodded. "Yeah. Just don't bring it up. Wait for them to. We don't want them knowing we broke into Dad's car."

"Well, he's probably going to see that box of Lemonheads is missing and put two and two together."

"No way. At breakfast tomorrow morning, just say you're allergic to them. He won't suspect a thing."

"Genius!"

"I know!"

They gave each other a hug and went to bed, wondering what would happen when they awoke the next morning.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Reba and Brock got up early to meet Cheyenne and Van for breakfast. Somewhere around midnight, Reba had gone back to the room. Brock had been asleep, thankfully, and didn't bombard her with questions. When they had awoken that morning, he didn't only not talk to her about the kiss, he didn't talk to her at all.<p>

The four adults sat down at a booth in the hotel's restaurant and opened their menus. Jake and Elizabeth had stayed in Reba and Brock's room to sleep in for a change.

"So," Cheyenne said, casually, glancing at her menu but not really reading it. "Did everyone have a good night's sleep?"

"Just fine," Reba said as she looked at her menu.

"Me too," Brock remarked, looking away from Cheyenne's gaze.

"I had an excellent night's sleep," Van said in an overly cheery tone. "Even though I was worried about the fact that I'm highly allergic to Lemonheads."

The two looked at each other behind their menus and grinned.

"I wonder if they have any cappuccino here," Reba said, not even listening to her daughter and son-in-law, her mind wandering.

"They probably do," Cheyenne said with a nod. "So drink up. We have a full day packed with fun activities. First, a boat tour."

"What's a boat tour?" Brock asked.

"Oh, it's this neat little tour of downtown Branson, then..." She reached into her purse to pull out a brochure. She opened it up and read the rest, "It delves deep into the Arkansas River for a spectacular view of the water."

"Are we walking?"

"Oh, no. It's a car shaped like a boat."

"I bet Elizabeth would like that," Reba said.

Cheyenne nodded with a smile. "Oh, I know she will. That and the doll museum."

"Oh, I'm passing on that one," Van announced.

"What? Why?"

"Because dolls creep me out. That's why I make Elizabeth keep all her Barbies in that trunk."

Reba rolled her eyes and stood. "I'm going to check out the buffet, you guys." She walked off, eager to get away from Brock and the reminder of her stupid mistake.

She grabbed a plate and thought about what she had done.

_You're selfish_, she told herself. _You took advantage of him and you had no right._

That's when she heard a familiar voice call her name.

"Reba, is that you?"

She slowly turned around. There, by ornate fountain, in all his handsome glory, was Dr. Jack Morgan.

She didn't know what to say or do, so she just stayed silent and still until he walked up to her.

"How have you been?" He asked. "Look at you. You look fantastic."

"Oh, well, you too." She smiled awkwardly. "How was Boston?"

"Great. I'm actually here on business."

"Ah." She pointed to herself with that little smile she always had. "Family vacation."

"Oh, really? Barbra Jean here?"

"Oh, no. Actually, her and Brock divorced last year."

"Sad to hear."

"Not really. They've been happier. Barbra Jean moved to Arkansas and Brock, well, he's been Brock."

Jack chuckled. "Good, good. Well, how are you?"

"Doing just fine."

"The real estate business treating you well?"

"As well as it can."

"Great. Well, hey, I don't mean to seem nosy, but are you seeing anyone?"

She almost said yes because of what happened between her and Brock but instead she shook her head.

"Me either. Cheryl and I divorced about five months after she talked to you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm finally single. So, I was wondering if you would like to meet me for drinks later. Only if you want to."

"I'd love to."

"Great. Eight o'clock okay?"

"Fantastic. See you then."

"Okay. And, Reba?"

"Yeah?"

"It was great running into you again."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Okay. I'm the one writing this thing and even I'm getting frustrated with Reba! Haha. So I know you all are. But besides that, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Review and let me know!<em>**


	4. Chapter 4

That afternoon, after the boat tours, the family ate at a cafe downtown then made their way to some of the other attractions Branson had to offer. Reba was so involved in her own confusing thoughts, however, that she didn't even notice where they were. She just followed where everyone else went.

As Cheyenne led the way into a large building, Reba heard music playing from speakers outside and on into the stadium-like place where they would sit. She spoke a little to Elizabeth before finally getting up and escaping to the bathroom to call Barbra Jean.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me." Reba shut and locked the stall door.

"Oh, hey, Reba! Havin' fun yet?"

"I couldn't tell you. Haven't been paying much attention."

"More trouble with Brock?"

"Yeah. I kissed him again."

"Why? I thought you were takin' it slow."

"I was. I don't know what happened. It was a spur of the moment thing. And to top it all off, Dr. Jack Morgan is staying at the hotel we're at and he asked me out for drinks tonight."

"Uh..."

"That's what I thought you'd say."

"Reba, look, I'm not going to tell you what should should or shouldn't do, but I am going to ask you this: Is Jack there? Can I talk to him?"

"Barbra Jean!"

"Sorry, sorry. Okay. I think you should just go have drinks with the man. See what he has to say, then go talk to Brock."

"Talk to Brock? What for? I'm mad at him."

"Just discuss things. Look, Reba, I know you don't see it, but you still have feelings for him. I can tell."

"I just don't think I can talk to him. I mean, this time it wasn't just a kiss. It was a full-on make-out session."

"Well, Reba, you gotta talk to him sooner or later, but I bet you'd feel better if it was sooner. Get all your cards out on the table. Consider therapy."

"That's what Brock said we should do. Okay, thanks, Barbra Jean. I gotta get back or they'll start getting suspicious."

"Alright. Tell Jack I said hi."

"Oh, I might," She said with a smile in her voice.

The two said their goodbyes and Reba decided to do what Barbra Jean suggested.

But unbeknownst to her, Cheyenne had just left the bathroom after having followed her and listened at the door. For a ditzy blonde, she was sure a smart one.

* * *

><p>That night, after an early dinner, Cheyenne told Van all that she heard while Elizabeth was next door watching a video with Jake.<p>

"So, Dr. Hunky's back, huh?" Van asked. "How convenient."

"Van, calm down," Cheyenne told him.

"No, I'm calm. I mean, why wouldn't I be calm? Your mom's just cheating on your dad. No big deal, right?"

Cheyenne sat down on the bed. "It just doesn't seem right. It doesn't sound like Mom. I mean, she said in the bathroom that she was mad at Dad, but why would she cheat on him so early in their new relationship?"

"We have to tell your dad. It's the right thing to do."

"But what if it just stirs up trouble?"

"It won't. Trust me. Now where are those Lemonheads?"

* * *

><p>That evening, at ten till eight, Reba was dressed in a nice black blouse with lace around the somewhat revealing neckline, ready to go downstairs.<p>

"Hey, Jake, tell your dad I'll be back after while," Reba said as she grabbed her purse.

"Where are you going?" Jake asked, not taking his eyes off the TV.

"To have a drink downstairs. Tell him when he gets back, okay?"

"Okay."

She stepped out into the hallway and shut the door, double checking that she had her room key. She walked to the elevator, got in, and hit the button for the lobby.

On the way down, she began to get nervous. She didn't want to say the wrong thing to lead him on.

The elevator stopped and she got out, walking to the bar near the hotel's restaurant.

She saw Jack already there so she slowly walked up to him.

"Anyone sitting here?" She asked, trying to break the ice.

Jack turned. "Oh, hey." He stood and pulled out her chair. "Have a seat."

She thanked him and they both sat down.

"What'll it be?" The bartender asked.

Reba chose a white wine and thanked the man when he brought it to her.

"You like white wine?" Jack asked.

_That's a stupid question_, Reba thought, but nodded.

"I like it pretty well."

"I prefer red myself."

"It's alright, I guess."

Jack nodded. "You know this is a nice hotel."

Reba thought about how slowly the conversation flowed. When they were together before, words flowed quickly, never a dull moment in the conversation.

"Yeah, it is pretty nice. Big, too."

"I've been in ones bigger than this."

"When I was a kid, I thought the Motel 8's were big."

He laughed. "You're just so fun."

"Thanks."

"Believe it or not, I've missed that. I've missed you."

"You did, did you?" She sipped her wine, trying not to make too much eye contact.

"I did."

"Well, I thought about you pretty often there in the beginning."

"I miss what we had," He said quietly.

"You mean what we could have had?"

"I suppose..."

Reba nodded. "Kind of hard to know now."

"We can know. If you'll have me."

Reba looked up. Did he seriously just ask her that? After not contacting her for so long, he sees her in the hotel and suddenly he wants to date again.

"Well, Jack, I don't know. I mean, Jake just got out of the hospital and you're in Boston. I don't know if that kind of relationship would work."

"Nothing is keeping me in Boston. I could work from Houston just as easily."

"But what if it doesn't work out? What if we break up and you can't go back to Boston. You'd hate me."

"Why don't we just make sure it works out, then?"

"Look, Jack, you're a really nice guy, but there are some things going on in my life that my family doesn't even know about. I just need time to think over some things before I jump into a relationship. I can't just put those things on the back burner. I have to deal with them."

Jack nodded. "I understand."

* * *

><p>Van and Cheyenne knocked on room 713 and waited to be let in. Brock answered the door a moment later.<p>

"Hey, guys, come on in."

"Actually," Cheyenne said. "Could we talk to you for a minute out here?"

"Okay, sure." He stepped out and pulled the door to. "What's up?"

"Well," Cheyenne began. "We don't want you to freak out."

"Or get mad," Van added.

"But Mom's downstairs having a drink."

Brock raised an eyebrow. "Yeah...I know..."

"Guess who she's having drinks with," Van asked. "A man by the name of Dr. Jack Morgan."

"Oh, really?"

"Now, Dad," Cheyenne said. "I know that since you and Mom are engaged that you might be jealous, But there's probably nothing going on. We just thought that you should know."

Brock had a confused look on his face. "Engaged?"

"Yeah..."

"You think your mother and I are engaged?"

"We found the ring when Van broke into your car."

"You broke into my car?"

Van held his hands up in defense. "We were just, you know, looking for quarters for the Coke machine and the ring box just happened to pop up."

"Why were you looking for quarters underneath the driver's seat?"

"I dunno."

"Dad, look," Cheyenne said, trying to take attention away from her husband. "Don't overreact, okay?"

"We're not engaged. This is all just a big misunderstanding, alright?" He walked past the two and down the hall.

"Where are you going?" Cheyenne called.

"Downstairs," He yelled. "Watch Jake."

As he got in the elevator and the door closed, Van looked at Cheyenne.

"Your dad's gonna kill him."

Cheyenne bit her lip. "I know. Come on." She started down the hall.

"What about Jake? He's alone!"

"He'll get over it. Let's go!"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Review? Please and thank you!<em>**


	5. Chapter 5

Reba got into the elevator with a sigh of relief. She hadn't wanted to hurt Jack, but she was afraid she did.

Leaning back against the door, she let out a long breath while she tried to decide what to do. Go with Brock and try to make it work or stay away from him like a normal divorced woman?

_Be logical_, She told herself as the elevator stopped at the seventh floor. The doors opened and she was met by Brock. She noticed he looked angry as Van and Cheyenne ran up behind him.

"Have a nice chat?" Brock asked her, arms folded

Reba stepped out of the elevator. "What?"

"Hey, Mr. H.," Van said nervously. "You wanna head on over to the pool and shoot some water hoops?"

"Van, go," Brock said.

"What is going on?" Reba asked.

"I know you had drinks with Dr. Morgan."

"Who told you that?"

Van and Cheyenne slowly stepped back. Reba gave them both a look.

"It was Cheyenne!" Van said, pointing to his wife.

"How did you know?" Reba questioned.

"I heard you telling Barbra Jean earlier on the phone." She bit her lip. "And the only reason I told Dad was because I thought you guys were engaged."

"Engaged?"

"They found the ring," Brock said with an irritated tone.

"Don't blame them!" Reba shouted. "You're the one who bought it!"

"Van broke into my car! It's not like I asked them for advice on which diamond to choose!"

"Okay!" Reba said, holding a hand up. "This is getting way out of control. Would you two please go back to your room and let me and your dad talk?"

"Sure," Cheyenne said, grabbing her husband's hand. "Come on, Van."

"Fine. But Mr. H., when you're done, meet me at the pool."

"Just go!" Brock shouted.

The two turned and quickly walked down the hall.

"Now," Reba said when they were out of sight. "Why do you have such a problem with me having drinks with Dr. Morgan?"

"Because he's your ex!"

"You're my ex!"

"It's different and you know it. We were married." He stopped before he said more, pausing to take a breath. "But it's not like that matters, either."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You dated him. People sleep together when they date."

Reba's face turned red. She should have known Brock would bring that up.

"Well, you're wrong," She informed him quietly.

"What?"

Reba shook her head, walking a few steps away. "I never went that far with him. I felt like I would be betraying you if I did."

"Oh. I didn't know."

"Well, now you do."

He nodded, thinking. "If that's the way you felt, why were are you so scared? I love you and I believe we can make things work between us."

"But it doesn't work that way! We are divorced. You hurt me more than words could describe when you left me and I don't want to give you another chance to hurt me again."

"But you have feelings for me. I have feelings for you. I love you."

"It doesn't matter, Brock. It just doesn't matter. Don't you remember the last year of our marriage? Don't you remember our relationship? It just sat there and didn't go anywhere like...a bunch of dead flowers just waiting for someone to throw it away. That's what you did, Brock; you threw us away. I was dead. And you can't bring something back when it's been gone for six years."

She turned around and headed for the room. She couldn't talk to him anymore. She couldn't stand the pain and the hurt. She didn't want to feel the love she felt for him, and she certainly didn't want it invading the very core of her being. She didn't want to try to make amends or make their relationship work. It was a divorce and that was how it was going to stay. At least that's what she kept telling herself.

* * *

><p>Brock decided he'd leave her alone and let her be with her own thoughts. He figured if he gave her enough time, she might just change her mind.<p>

_But what if she doesn't? _He thought. _What if she seriously doesn't want to be with me?_

As he sat in the lobby of the hotel and watched people check in and out, he decided that he would just stop asking her. His heart broke to know he had hurt her so badly that she didn't even want to give him a second chance. That was saying a lot. Reba was all about second chances. She had always believed that if a person messed up, they deserved to have another go 'round. For her to not think he deserved one, just tore him to pieces.

_If it's what she truly wants, that's fine._

And that's what he walked away with in his heart.

* * *

><p>Reba sat quietly in the room, rethinking what she had said to Brock. Had he really thrown their whole marriage away? She knew she had a lot to do with the destruction of their relationship, but she realized it wasn't fair to put the blame all on him.<p>

With all these things weighing heavily on her mind, she lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, hoping to have a moment where she didn't have to think about all these tough decisions.

_"Hello?" Reba answered her cell phone on the first ring._

_"Is this Reba Hart?"_

_"Yes... Who is calling?"_

_"This is officer Troy Barnett. I'm with the Houston Police Department. Do you know a Brock Hart?"_

_"He's my ex-husband. Is there something the matter?"_

_"You were in his phone under emergency contacts."_

_"Okay..."_

_"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, Ms. Hart, but Mr. Hart was just killed in an automobile accident."_

_In cheesy Lifetime movies, Reba had seen that when these kinds of things happen, people drop their phones out of shock. She had always thought it was a bunch of bull and that people needed to learn to control themselves. But as it happened to her, she understood._

_The phone fell from her hand and crashed to the floor, the battery popping out. She fell against the kitchen counter, her knees to unable to support her weight. She fumbled around and tried to sit in one of the chairs. Mere seconds later, a cry escaped her lips and the waterfall of tears began. Her whole face was wet as her body shook with each sob that she cried._

_Dead? Brock was dead? He was no longer living? He wasn't on this earth anymore? Reba couldn't fathom this reality. Her children were without a father, Henry was without a father, his mother was without a son, and she was without her best friend. The man that knew her better than she knew herself was never coming back. Her heart ached to know that she never got the chance to tell him that she loved him even after all he put her through. She'd never get the chance to fix things or to even look at his face again. She'd never be able to be comforted by his hug or his words. He was utterly and completely gone. And that utterly and completely gone was utterly and completely unbearable._

Reba woke up from her nightmare in a cold sweat. She held a hand to her forehead as she sat up. She was still in her clothes from earlier in the day, but Reba could hardly recall what she had done in the hours behind her. She was too shaken up from her dream. It had felt so real and she had felt so helpless.

"God," She whispered, feeling funny about praying about something such as that. "If that dream was a sign, please make it a little more clear."

To her left, the door to the hotel room opened and Reba looked to the ceiling briefly, muttering a thank you.

Brock walked in and glanced at her before flopping down on his bed and placing a pillow over his eyes. Reba didn't want to disturb him, as he looked tired, but what she had to say couldn't wait.

"Brock," She said quietly. "I'm sorry."

He moved the pillow from his eyes. "What?"

"I said I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I wasn't being fair. I didn't want to try and fix our problems, but after hearing you ask me again and again, I feel that maybe I should try. Or want to, at least."

Brock sat up, a look Reba couldn't identify on his face. "What do you mean? You want to be with me now?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Reba, up until now you gave me the cold shoulder and now you just want to say yes after me begging? On your own time? I feel like you were playing me."

"Brock, I wasn't playing you..."

"Could have fooled me."

"Look, I know I wasn't sure about this at first, but maybe I'm having a second thought."

Brock shook his head. He had just made a decision downstairs to let her have what she wanted. He felt like she was pitying him and he wanted nothing of it.

"You can't just want me half of the time," He said heatedly. "What if, a week from now, you decide you don't like being back with me?"

"I could say the same to you!"

He shook his head, turning to leave.

"You do this every time!" Reba shouted. "When I need you most, you walk out on me."

Brock opened the door and stepped into the hall. Reba watched as he didn't even bother to respond to her, before feeling tears fall down her face. She shut the door and kicked it as hard as she could before turning around and sliding to the floor.

"I need you," She sobbed quietly, finally realizing what Barbra Jean had been telling her all along. Brock had just walked away and she was a mess of tears on the floor. It was obvious she needed him very much.

About to get on the elevator in the hallway, Brock stopped himself from pushing the down button and clenched his fists before sighing. What was he doing? She was in the room screaming for him and he was prepared to leave her there alone? Not this time.

He turned around, shaking his head at how much of an idiot he was. Granted, he didn't go far this time, but he still walked away from her. Inside, he felt so alive now that he knew Reba wanted him as bad as he wanted her. Maybe all she needed was a bit of time. Maybe all the time alone they had spent together was just what she needed to get her feelings together.

He grabbed the room key from his pocket and twisted the knob. When he tried to open the door, however, it wouldn't budge.

"Reba? Let me in."

He heard movement from behind the door and it opened. Before him stood a beautiful woman with tear-stained cheeks.

"I'm sorry."

She threw herself at him, not even caring about the fact that she was crying in front of him. She hardly ever cried unless she was by herself. It just showed how close they still were.

Brock wrapped his strong arms around her waist and moved them both inside the room, closing the door behind them. He reached up and caressed her cheek with his hand.

"I won't leave again."

She looked into his eyes, nodding. "Promise?"

He leaned in to kiss her fiercely on the lips. She moved her arms from around his neck to grip his hair as she kissed him back. Her eyes closed involuntarily as his arms circled around her tighter. When they parted, he wiped some of the tears away.

"I promise."

* * *

><p><strong><em>So that's where the meaning of the story comes in. It's not necessarily about what the song Dead Flowers is about, although I used lyrics from the song in the summary. It's just how I explained it. I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Annnnd...THEY'RE FINALLY TOGETHER. ;D<em>**


	6. Chapter 6

A few hours later, Reba found herself still talking and holding onto Brock. After their little moment where Brock promised to never leave her again, they had just fell onto the bed together. It had been a long time since he had just held her and it felt like she was home. She never wanted that feeling to go away.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" Brock whispered.

"Every twenty minutes, just about." She smiled and moved her head from his chest to look up at him.

He kissed the top of her head, realizing what he had been missing out on for the past six years. "Are we going to tell the kids about us?"

"Eventually. But let's wait a bit. We're just now getting used to it ourselves."

Reba felt Brock tense. "You mean wait and see if we make it?"

"You have to admit that it's a worry."

"I know. But don't even think like that. We're not going to make the same stupid mistakes again. Will you go to therapy with me?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

He shrugged. "I guess, but I want to go this time."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"I've changed, Reba. I want to show you that."

"I know you've changed. I realized that when you came back a little bit ago."

He shifted, pulling her closer. "What was it that changed your mind?"

"Hmm?"

"What was it that changed your mind? About us."

"I had a dream that you were killed, and when I woke up feeling helplessly lost, I figured out that the past six years, I was just going through the motions and not really living. The only time I was living was when we were together. I want to feel that way again."

"So the only way for you to come to your senses was for me to die?"

She giggled, understanding his joke. "No. I know what I have. You don't have to go away for me to realize it."

* * *

><p>With Van, Cheyenne, Jake, and Elizabeth gone to the pool, Reba and Brock just sat around and talked like they hadn't gotten to in years. They joked around and teased each other and just enjoyed each other's company.<p>

"Remember that time in college when you went streaking with your friends?" Reba asked Brock, about to burst into a fit of giggles.

"That one time?" He laughed. "I've done it many more times than one, but yes, I do recall."

"When you ran by all the girls' dorms, all my friends looked away, but I didn't. I thought you had a cute butt."

They both burst out laughing and Brock shook his head. "You're not right."

"I'm not? You're the one who decided it'd be a good idea to strip down to the nothings and run around campus."

"Ever heard of peer pressure?"

Reba rolled her eyes as her phone rang. She reached towards the side-table to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Kyra, hey honey. What's up?"

"Are you alone?"

"What? No, your dad's right here. What do you need?"

"I think I messed up."

Reba stood from the bed, walking a few steps away. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"I wasn't going to tell you because I thought it'd be okay, but now I'm really freaking out."

"Kyra, tell me what happened."

"You remember that gig I went to in Dallas a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah."

"Well, after we played our set, there was this party. Well, some people started drinking and so I figured I'd have a little bit, too. Then me and Trevor just started making out and it happened. I think I might be pregnant."

Reba's eyes went wide. "You what?"

"Don't make me say it again. I'm freaking out, Mom. What do I do?"

"Hang tight. I'm coming home."

"What?" Brock said from the bed. "What's going on?"

Reba held up a hand to silence him, speaking to Kyra once more. "We'll be there soon."

"We? No, don't bring Dad."

"Kyra, I'm terrible with directions. Besides that, I'm not driving for eleven hours alone."

"Fine. But don't give him any details."

"I don't even know any details. You know, Kyra, I thought you'd choose a different path than Cheyenne."

"Don't beat me up. I'm already doing it enough myself."

"Fair enough. I'll call you when we're on the road."

"Okay. Bye."

They hung up and Reba turned to Brock who had a look of bewilderment on his face.

"What the heck is going on?"

Reba sighed, hoisting her suitcase onto the bed. "Kyra thinks she might be pregnant."

"Excuse me?"

Reba nodded. "Remember that Dallas gig? There was a party, alcohol and a bed. You put the pieces together."

Brock stood up. "That's it. She's done with this whole music bullshit."

Reba looked up and shot him a look. "Language."

"Sorry, but you have to agree. I'm not having another pregnant teenager. At this rate, I really wouldn't be surprised if Jake got pregnant."

Reba had to chuckle, but nodded. "Let's just wait and get her to a doctor before we go crazy, alright? I need you to drive home. Are you okay with that?"

"I've been wanting to get home from this trip since we backed out of the driveway."

"I take that as a yes?"

* * *

><p>When Reba explained the situation to her eldest daughter, Cheyenne understood and promised to keep Jake having fun. Everyone knew it'd be the last time for a family vacation for a while, and Reba wanted nothing more than her little boy to have a great time. They said their goodbyes and her and Brock drove out of town.<p>

"So," Brock said after they had driven for a while. "We're going to have the house to ourselves for a few days. What do you think about that?"

Reba shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. Looking out her window, she said, "I don't know."

"I'm not just going to jump on you."

"I know. I'm just not ready to talk about it."

"When will you be?" He looked over at her and winked.

She just rolled her eyes. "Typical man," She said under her breath.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing."

He smiled, taking a moment to glance at her while she wasn't looking. Her hair shone in the sunlight, casting a beautiful glow on her face. His eyes traveled down her shoulder, down her arm where her skin was spotted with freckles, to her hand. It looked so lonely without her ring. He hadn't noticed how much he missed looking down at her hand and seeing her wedding ring. He missed his own.

"You're beautiful," He told her, placing his eyes back on the road.

She looked over at him. "What?"

"I said you're beautiful."

She laughed, as if she had never heard such nonsense. "Where did that come from?"

"It's true. I'd love to show you how beautiful you are."

Reba fidgeted in her seat. "Brock..."

"I'm sorry, but it's going to be on my mind until it happens."

"I want it to be special," She told him. "Not just some meaningless rendezvous."

"Can you plan that sort of thing?"

"Yeah. You can plan it with soft music, and candlelight, and flowers. It can be beautiful."

"Okay. I see some dandelions by the curb, there's a lighter in the glove-box, and we can turn on the radio for music. Ready?"

She giggled, playfully slapping his arm. "Brock, you're an idiot."

"Yeah, but I'm your idiot."

Reba's cell phone rang and she went to answer it, still smiling from Brock's comment.

"He-"

"Reba!"

"Barbra Jean, I didn't even get to say hello this time."

Reba saw Brock roll his eyes from his spot at the wheel and she had to grin.

"I'm sorry, but I'm just so excited. You'll never guess what happened!"

"You got a new car?"

"No. Better!"

"Two new cars."

"I'm gettin' married!"

"To who?"

"Darryl, of course."

"Is he...the umm...one you met a while back."

"That's the one. You have to help me plan the wedding. Will you be my maid of honor?"

"Let's go slow, how 'bout? We'll discuss that later. In the mean time, go call everybody you know."

"Okay! I'll talk to you later!"

The two hung up and Reba put her phone back in her pocket.

"She's getting married?" Brock asked.

Reba looked at him. "Yeah."

"To Darryl?"

Reba's eyes went wide. "You know about him?"

"I've known about him since she started seeing him while we were still married."

"Brock, I'm so sorry."

He held up a hand, not taking his eyes from the road. "I don't want to talk about it."

Reba sat back in her seat, hands in her lap. "Okay."

"But I will say this. Now, I understand completely what I put you through when we divorced. The hurt, I mean. I would never intentionally do that to you. I'm so sorry."

Reba noticed the tears in his voice and her heart broke for him. She scooted into the middle seat and wrapped her arm around his before laying her head on his shoulder.

"It's all over now, though." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Things in this life are going to work out in ways that we didn't plan, but we learn to go with the flow. Look where that experience brought us. Aren't you glad it happened? I know I am."

* * *

><p><em><strong>What do you all think? Thanks for reviewing! I really appreciate it!<strong>_


	7. Chapter 7

Reba woke up the next morning in her own bed. She was confused as she sat up. The last thing she remembered was listening to Brock talk to her as she drifted off to sleep in the car on the way home. Yawning, she looked to her right to see a note on her end table.

_You were sleeping pretty hard when we got into Houston, so I just carried you up to your room. Hope that was okay. I didn't want you sleeping in the car. I'm at my house if you want to come over when you wake up.  
>- Brock<em>

She smiled and folded the note before tucking it under her pillow. She felt like a silly little schoolgirl for being all lovey dovey over Brock. She hadn't acted like that in years. Not since she first started dating him. It felt oddly beautiful to be able to be that person again.

She got out of bed to shower and get dressed for the day with a bounce in her step and a wide smile on her face. Finally releasing how she felt after keeping it in so long was freeing and she wondered why she didn't do it sooner. Pride was a stupid thing and she hoped she'd never have a problem with it again.

When she got downstairs, prepared to head to Brock's place, she took a deep breath when she saw Kyra sitting on the couch with papers spread out on the coffee table.

"Hey, honey," Reba greeted her.

Kyra didn't look up but returned the greeting.

"What are you up to?" Reba asked, trying to keep the conversation light until she knew what Kyra's mood was.

"Looking over some things."

Reba picked up a piece of paper and read the title aloud. "All You Need To Know Before Having an Abortion." Her stomach lurched as she realized the words she had spoken. Her eyes went to her daughter. "Kyra-"

"Don't, Mom."

"You're considering an abortion?"

"Yeah."

"Kyra, you can't do that-"

"I'm eighteen. I can do what I want." Her tone was so broken. Almost like she wasn't there completely.

"As long as you live in my house, you abide by my rules. It's obvious you can't make the right decisions without being followed around like a toddler. You're not getting an abortion."

Kyra stood, calmly gathering her papers. "I have my doctor's appointment today. I was hoping you wouldn't get crazy until I knew for sure."

Reba stood as well. "No one is getting crazy. I'm just trying to help you make the right decision."

"I think I know what's right for me and my life, Mom."

Reba watched as her daughter went upstairs without another word. Her heart broke for her daughter. To have to make that kind of decision was hard in itself, but to feel like you were horribly alone in it would be even worse.

Saying a quick prayer for her daughter, Reba headed out the door, prepared to walk to Brock's house.

Once there, she let herself in and found Brock asleep on the couch, nose in the air, mouth open and snoring. She sighed, going to sit on the edge of the coffee table.

"Brock," She said, shaking him a bit. "Brock, wake up."

He jerked awake and opened his eyes. "Oh, hey," He said, sleepily, running a hand over his eyes. He sat up and leaned back against the couch. "Sleep well?"

"I guess."

He frowned as he watched her sit with her hands in her lap, looking down.

"What's wrong?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"Yes, there is. What happened?"

"Kyra."

"What did she do?"

"She wants an abortion."

"She's not getting one."

"That's what I told her, but she doesn't want to hear it. She pulled the 'I'm eighteen' card."

Brock nodded, wondering how to fix this problem. It was obviously bothering Reba and that concerned him. If his daughter went through with an abortion, she'd regret it for the rest of her life and he didn't want that either.

"I forgot what this was like," He admitted with a small laugh.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Finding a solution to everybody's problems. I can be a dad again."

"You always were a dad."

"It's different now." He leaned forward, close enough to smell her perfume. "Everything is going to turn out just fine, okay?"

Reba nodded, reaching forward to take his hands in hers. "Promise you'll stick with me?"

"Promise." He captured her in a big hug, pulling her closer and closing his eyes as her arms went around him.

Reba felt somewhat better after discussing her worries with Brock. If he hadn't forgotten what it was like to be a problem-solving dad, she had forgotten what it was like to be able to go to her best friend with her problems. It felt good to know she wasn't alone anymore.

When they pulled away, Brock gave her a smile. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I just need time to come to grips with the fact that our daughter might be pregnant. Can we handle that again?"

"I think so." He stood, holding out his hand. "Come on. Want to go get breakfast?"

She stood, taking his hand, but as the two left, Reba noticed something on the coffee table. A vase full of dead roses. On their vacation, obviously, Brock hadn't watered them and they had withered away. She knew them being there was no coincidence, since she had spoke of their relationship dying like flowers just days before. It stayed in her mind all throughout breakfast and she wondered why God had chosen to show her that.

_To be continued..._

* * *

><p><strong><em>These stories are shorter than I thought they'd be. When I hand-wrote them in notebooks, they sure seemed a lot longer! I'll have the third installment of the series up tomorrow. Be sure and review!<em>**


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